


Grind

by fleete



Series: Grind [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, F/F, Fuck Or Die, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleete/pseuds/fleete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh my god, I’m going to die and my last act will be to hump your leg.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moriann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriann/gifts).



> **content notes** : fuck or die and attending dub-con / consent issues

Felicity’s panting, quick and sharp, behind her.

When they get through this, Sara is going to change clothes, retrieve her knives from where they got stashed after last night’s incident, and track down the dealer’s assistant on the west side of the Glades. She’ll use some combination of a stake-out and intimidation to find out where, because Felicity is in no condition to help them, and the information has to be found fast. After that, she’ll go home, get a couple hours sleep, and then tomorrow, she’ll—

A whimper reaches her ears, and Sara closes her eyes, briefly, against the sound.

—she’ll make an appearance at Verdant in the morning, re-do the inventory of th liquor, hopefully establish some goodwill with Thea there, because she can’t give more than a dozen hours to her job this week, and she’ll need to call in sick while they’re going after the drug syndicate. With any luck, Oliver will be able to unearth some information about the formula they’ve developed out of the guy they’d found last Thursday—

Felicity’s panting pauses, abruptly, and Sara fights the impulse to turn and look.

“Felicity?”

Felicity groans then, sounding more frustrated than aroused. “This is not—not working.”

“Has your heartrate jumped? Do you have any numbness in your hands or feet?”

“No, it’s—.” She pauses to pant some more. Her breath is starting to sound labored in a way that isn’t healthy, and it’s making Sara’s heart pound anxiously. “It’s—not that. I just can’t do this _like this_.”

Sara tries to parse that. “You mean with me listening? 

“No. I mean yes, obviously, it’s difficult with you listening, but no, it’s—. I don’t usually do this with my fingers, I need—oh god, I am _not_ having a conversation about my masturbatory habits with you.”

They’re in Oliver’s office, the corporate fundraising party for Moira left behind, three floors below them. It was actually a rare night for all of them—Oliver was at the party in an official capacity, and thus so were Felicity and Digg. Sara had unearthed a dress for the occasion, her first public function as Oliver’s girlfriend. 

And then, of course, everything had gone to hell. Felicity had started swaying on her feet, her punch glass falling out of her hand, and Digg had recognized a guy from the drug syndicate they’d been investigating for the last three weeks.

No one else at the party had seemed affected, so they’d regrouped in Oliver’s office, Felicity panting and helplessly touching her own neck. Oliver had looked almost panicked, because they all knew what this particular brand of date rape drug did, and how it needed to be treated, and Sara could practically feel Oliver freaking out, all his weird, possessive, and yet reluctant feelings about Felicity written on his face. _Go_ , Sara told him and Digg. _This will be easier if you guys leave. We got this._

Felicity had thanked her, after they'd fled, and Sara knew she'd made the right decision.

Or at least she thought she had. Now, twenty minutes later, and no closer to a life-saving orgasm, Sara isn't so sure.

“What do you need?” she asks. 

Felicity doesn't respond.

If Felicity usually gets off with a dildo, then surely there’s something in this office Sara can give her. She eyes the oddly shaped paperweight on the desk, but no, it has sharp edges. Maybe Felicity needs a vibrator. Sara has no idea where she could get one of those within the next ten minutes, and she steels herself, because it’s really looking like she’s going to have to convince a drugged, unwilling woman to let her go down on her, and regardless of any _thoughts_ Sara may have had in the past about Felicity, that is not a line she wants to cross.

Felicity still isn’t saying anything. Sara fists her hands at her side. “Tell me what you need,” she says and tries to make her voice reassuring. “I know this is hard, and I am so sorry that I can’t give you privacy, but—”

“I usually…” Felicity’s voice is small, but Sara is glad to hear, still indignant. “Ugh. I usually put something between my legs and sort of move against it. Like a pillow. Or preferably something firmer. But not, like, something to go inside, just something to—”

Grind against. Hump. Ride. Sara’s mind helpfully conjures her up, gyrating against the arm of a couch. 

The couches in Oliver’s office have thin metal arm rests. They’re sleek and modern and not even a little bit suitable for pressing soft tissue against. Sara does a mental inventory of the office.

“You could bunch up Oliver’s suit jacket?” It’s still lying on the desk where he dropped it in his hurry to a) get the bad guy and b) run away.

Felicity makes a breathless amused sound. “His three thousand dollar suit jacket.” 

That sounds like a ‘no.’ Sara shakes her head, looks at her watch.

“It’s already been twenty minutes.” Sara works her jaw and makes herself say it. “I’m here. For whatever you need. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

She’s listening hard enough to hear Felicity swallow across the room. There’s a long silence.

“Okay.”

Sara nods, even though she’s not looking at her. This will be fine. She’ll just let Felilcty tell her what she wants, and she’ll follow directions. Felicity will be in control.

This will be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was posted in two parts for the PurimGifts fest 2014. The second part can be found as the second part of the series.


End file.
